They revived Arturius by the simple expedient of putting a screwdriver in his big hand. He opened his eyes and stared at High-Pockets and shook his head slowly, incredulously.
High-Pockets helped him up. "Don't worry," he said.
Arturius sputtered and almost detonated. "Don't worry!" he snorted. "Five hundred dollars worth of cams busted up and he says, 'Don't worry!'"
"It won't cost that much," said High-Pockets. "I'll help you piece the cams together. You can get them welded."
"No," said Arturius. "I'll get new ones."
"It won't work," said High-Pockets.
"What won't work?"
"I did that to chastise the machine. If it wants to be so independent, it will have to endure the penalties as well as enjoy the privileges. If you put in new cams, it will think it's smart and go right ahead raising hell. But if you have the old ones welded and put back in, the welds, like scars, will remind No. 7 that she's supposed to be a lady. As long as they are there, No. 7 will behave. I guarantee it."
The judge wiped his bald head again. "I do believe you've got something there, Mr. Jones. If a machine assumes the right of self-determination, what would be more natural than to treat it as you would treat any other self-determining creature?"
High-Pockets heaved a tremendous sigh of relief. He saw now that his stay in the city would not be terminated as a guest in the workhouse. High-Pockets was very happy indeed.